


Assistance

by Uozumi



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AvengeLock, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uozumi/pseuds/Uozumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark has known Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes since they were children. After Sherlock’s funeral, Mycroft has something to ask of Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assistance

**Author's Note:**

> **Fandom** _Avengers_ (2012)/ _Sherlock_ (2010)  
>  **Character(s)/Pairing(s)** Mycroft Holmes, Tony Stark; no pairings intended, take it as you will.   
> **Genre** Crossover/Drama  
>  **Rating** PG  
>  **Word Count** 1,060  
>  **Disclaimer** Sherlock c. Doyle, Moffat, Gatiss, BBC.   
> **Summary** Tony Stark has known Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes since they were children. After Sherlock’s funeral, Mycroft has something to ask of Tony.   
> **Warning(s)** spoilers for the movie, spoilers up through series two episode three of _Sherlock_  
>  **Notes** A few months ago I postulated that Howard Stark and the Holmes brothers’ parents possibly ran around in similar wealthy circles, so like with any vacation where your parents meet up with business associates on purpose or accidentally, the children were forced to mingle because it’s easier for the adults. Somehow, that brain slug led to this fic. This isn’t a kid!fic.

**_Assistance_ **

It was wise for both of them to keep in contact with one another. For Mycroft it was a means to peek about the mind of a man who was at the forefront of weapons technology. For Tony, it was a way to keep in contact with someone who might be useful. The pair met before Sherlock was born, forced to play together under the watchful eyes of their nannies while their parents discussed business. Their families believed in exposing the children to world cultures and in many European countries, the families encountered one another. After a few trips together, Tony and Mycroft came to like each other as much as any children could in that situation without actually liking each other enough to keep in touch. When Sherlock was old enough, he tagged along. 

Tony always liked Sherlock despite being six years older. The kid was blunt and brilliant. Sherlock always said what was on his mind and noticed things other children Tony knew from school would not have noticed. Mycroft was very serious as he was now, but back then, Mycroft had a more adventurous streak. Tony was able to read both brothers well enough in times of silence such as this one. Tony’s eyes followed the curvature of Mycroft’s shoulders and speed of which Mycroft poured their drinks. “I thought this would happen when I didn’t see you at the funeral.” 

Mycroft handed Tony the fuller glass of the two glasses he poured. It was not unusual when Tony was in London for the pair met once the Diogenes Club in a special room out of the way where talking was permissible in quiet voices. Mycroft had not been in New York long enough for Tony to take him anywhere in a long time. “We both know that while the funeral was private, the exposure was too public for me.”

Sherlock jumped off St. Bart’s rooftop the day after Tony was up all night reading the information Agent Coulson brought him on the Avengers. Then everything began to move so fast for Tony that it was not until a day after the Avengers parted ways that Tony heard the news of Sherlock’s apparent suicide. Tony managed to make a flight to London from New Jersey in time for the funeral. Tony tapped his finger against his glass in thought. “I can’t believe it.” He looked out the window, but he could feel Mycroft’s gaze on him. “I can’t believe that he would orchestrate crimes, get someone to strap bombs to people…” Tony’s voice trailed. His fingers tightened on the glass.

“Neither can I,” Mycroft admitted, “but what if he did?”

Tony’s gaze shifted to Mycroft then. “And, what if he didn’t?”

Mycroft set his glass on the end table near his chair. “That is a question everyone will have to answer in their own way. I, for one, know that Dr. Watson is convinced there is no way Sherlock could have done these things and he has known Sherlock much shorter than either one of us.”

“I saw him,” Tony said. He drank from the glass and then set it down on the end table near his chair. “I didn’t know about the blog until I overheard someone mention it.” He rubbed his face. “I might read it on the flight home.” 

There was a long moment of quiet. It was not uncomfortable. “Tony, I have something to ask of you.”

Tony crossed his legs. He was listening. This was not the first time Mycroft had something to ask of him. Tony knew the phrase could be harmless or quite dangerous. Then there would come a time when Tony would need Mycroft’s assistance later. It was the nature of their adult relationship at times. 

“Do trust your eyes,” Mycroft said, “but do not give in to routine.”

Tony looked back out the window. It was raining. “Turning into a fortune cookie on me?” He looked away from the window and picked his glass back up again. 

“No,” Mycroft said. “The Diogenes Club has strict codes of conduct and employs the most loyal staff; however, it is not unwise to be careful.”

Tony considered the earlier message, turning the glass in his hands a little. He was used to Mycroft’s cryptic responses. They always required a bit of thought. Tony’s eyes dilated slightly with a realization. “So…” Tony’s eyes met Mycroft’s gaze, “I shouldn’t rule out making an extra floor on the tower after all.” 

“We both know you didn’t have one planned,” Mycroft said. He inclined his head and steepled his fingers. 

“It’s Aquitaine all over again, isn’t it?” Tony asked. He snorted and shook his head. “Only I won’t have to answer to your mom.” Tony remembered Aquitaine quite well. He was fifteen, Mycroft was sixteen, and Sherlock was nine. The three of them went to a castle one morning to explore it. Sherlock went missing early on the tour and by evening, he was still missing. Sherlock reappeared outside the door of Tony’s accommodations in the middle of the night to avoid immediate trouble from the Holmes family. In the morning, Mrs. Holmes blamed Tony for the entire incident, though Mycroft had not kept an eye on Sherlock either. It was the last time Tony saw the Holmes brothers until Mr. Holmes’ funeral two years later. 

“It has similarities,” Mycroft said. He could still remember his mother going on about how Sherlock must have died as they reached the twelve-hour mark in his brother’s disappearance. Mycroft did not ask if Tony would consider the proposition. They both knew Tony would agree to keeping an eye out for Sherlock and helping if need be without blowing Sherlock’s cover in the process.

Now that it appeared there was no real funeral, Tony stood up. “I have an early flight.” He had a lot to consider. Mycroft rose from his chair, but the pair did not shake hands. Tony surveyed Mycroft. “Until the next time. Let’s try no to make it another funeral, okay?”

Mycroft’s lips quirked into that not smile that somehow was a smile. “Of course.” 

Tony knew it was just a pleasantry. He also knew Mycroft would owe him for this as well. Tony slipped out the door and quietly made his way through the hallways of the club to the exit and the outdoor noises.

**The End**


End file.
